Tiger sat down at the desk in his office at home and looked out over the cathedral close. Thick grey clouds were looming behind the cathedral, far darker than the pale grey stones of its towers and flying buttresses. For a thousand years the building had nestled there, sheltering the bones of Hampshire’s great and good, from St Swithun to Jane Austen. It seemed perverse that he should be looking over something so majestic and musing on something so sordid. The sort of thing you wanted to believe did not happen in peaceful surroundings like these. Petty crime. The manipulation of ordinary people. Maybe it was none of his business, but how could he ignore it as Gary seemed prepared to do? He could understand the reluctance of the local doctor, but he had hoped Gary might have come on board. Gary, who always portrayed himself as Jack the Lad but who now seemed happy to stick his head in the sand. Maybe it was something to do with Sarah. Maybe he really was keen and didn’t want to waste his time on anything else.

Tiger gazed beyond the close-cropped grass and the old irregular walls over to the Georgian facades that stared back toward him. Beyond them were the streets of shops where he would have to ask his questions.

Surely it would be fairly simple? He would make a list of all the shops in the half dozen main streets, then ask the manager of each one whether they had been approached by the man in black. Those who admitted they had been visited would most likely be the ones who had refused his offer.

Those who said that they had not seen the man would either have paid the money or had not yet been visited.

Any that had been vandalized would obviously be on the list of those who had declined ‘protection’. And if any shops who denied they had been approached said they had been vandalized? Well, that was tricky. They would probably have been the victims of the drunken yobs.

But then he would have to check the timings of the visits from the man with the timings of the vandalism. And what about those who had been approached by the man, agreed to pay, but would tell Tiger they had declined? How would he know who was telling the truth?

He leaned back in his chair. The more he thought about it, the less certain he was of what it would achieve. But he did not have to think for very long. The phone rang. It was the helicopter company. A job had come up. An urgent job. Could he be at Southampton Airport in a couple of hours? With an overnight bag. Well, rather larger than that, actually. He would be away for the best part of a week.